A Missing Piece by XxPerfectlyPerfectAsIAmxX
by Twilight-Roleplay Contest
Summary: ENTRY FOR THE First TWILIGHT ROLEPLAY CONTEST: A part of Michelle's past when her parents died.


**Twilight-Roleplay Contest: **Michelle Lily Amber Taylor Black. (OC)

**Title: **A Missing Piece

**Author: **Lola Hailey Hale Cullen

**Summary: **A part of Michelle's past when her parents died.

**Word Count: **777

**Disclaimer: **Michelle belongs to Lola, but the rest belongs to Stephanie Meyer

**For more entries, check out the contest at h t t p :/ w w w. fanfiction .n e t/u/3418535/Twilight_Roleplay_Contest. **

**All entries are open to public; feel free to R&R, even if you are not a judge.**

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><p>The horror that stood before me was unbearable; it wasn't anything a 12 year-old should see – especially on their birthday. I had just gotten off of the school bus after a tiring day of school, but was fully energetic from excitement. My mom, Tim and I would definitely be celebrating tonight. Tim was my stepfather but just like a Dad because he and my mom were married since I knew myself. After walking up the driveway, I opened the front door and walked into the living room. My stomach twisted and my pupils widened instantly. Blood was everywhere; but whose was it? At that moment, I sensed a presence and my gray brown eyes focused on the monster that had done all of this, it was a vampire but not just any vampire but the man I use to call a father. I stared at him in disbelief as he dropped my mother's lifeless body on the floor. As I ran over to her, and looked into her hollow eyes; my heart shattered. I realized that those eyes that used to look into my soul were no opaque.<p>

I watched as my father's snake like tongue wiped away that last dip of my mother's blood that driveled from the corner of his lips. I didn't give him a chance to look at me, in fear that I was next. My legs agreed with me as my muscles kicked in and I sprinted down the street. I didn't recall opening the front door and after running for two miles, I was breathing heavily as I skipped onto the front porch of my grandmother's house. She lived on Rose Street, a nice and quiet community where everyone was friendly. I slowly opened the front door and in the foyer stood my elderly grandmother. Her face was wrinkled but she was a regal beauty, with brown eyes that squinted as her full lips formed into a smile. She asked me why I was crying as she wiped the tears from my face. She repeatedly questioned me about the day's events. Her big arms held me tight as I carefully explained each dreadful detail. She rocked me and muttered, "Don't trust anyone and don't open up the door for anyone" I nodded then went on. Her words stuck into my brain. When I finished, she got up and called some of my aunts and uncles and she told them about the incident. They all refused to even see me; I heard the loud shouting and cursing through the phone. I was confused, what was going on? What had I done? When I pressed my grandmother for answers, she told me not to worry and to get some rest.

After a few hours, the night had fall and my grandmother was humming my mother's favorite song. I tried to sleep but could not forget about what had happened and the tears streamed down my face once again as she held me close. I fell asleep in her arms.

The week that followed was filled with funeral arrangements and interrogating by the police. My grandmother was an intelligent woman and she knew all the right words to say to let them to leave us alone. The day of the funeral finally came and I was dressed in a white long, flowing dress that covered my bare feet. Shoes didn't really matter to me so I chose not to wear any. The funeral service for my mother went on for almost three hours and after the pastor said the last words the pall bearers started rolling the coffins out of the church. I rode in the car with my grandmother, she held my hand tightly but I could sense her fear. When we arrived at the graveyard the ceremony continued. It soon started to rain and some of the people started leaving. Once the pastor dropped the dirt on the grave, people went up to the coffin and dropped their black roses. I had a white rose and was the last person to walk up to the coffin. I knelt down next to grave that read, "Celia Elizabeth Delhi-Taylor & Timothy Joseph Taylor."

No one told me until that moment what had really happened. My grandmother explained that horrible image I had seen was really a vampire who had killed both of my parents. It wasn't my father anymore but a bloodsucking leech. I shed one last tear for them and dropped my rose. As I walked away from the grave site with my grandmother I left a part of me with them, a part that was going to stay with the, forever.


End file.
